


i am thou

by bangandawhimper



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bodyswap, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masochism, just a little of those last two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26757223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangandawhimper/pseuds/bangandawhimper
Summary: “Could you possibly,” Akira grits out, trying just one more time to unlock the door to their apartment, “wait until we’re inside. For this.” His hand is uncoordinated and uncooperative and just doesn’t want to listen because, well… it’s actually Goro’s hand.Long story.[Written for day 1 of Kinktober 2020]
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 16
Kudos: 329





	i am thou

“Well it’s your damn fault for not dodging the stupid thing in the first place—what the hell kind of professional allows a low-level Shadow get the drop on him like that?”

He opens his mouth to reply with a half-formed retort and the key slips past the lock. Again.

Akira Kurusu is an expert thief, a master of lock-picking, and here he is struggling to open a normal door the normal way.

“Could you possibly,” Akira grits out, trying just _one more time_ to unlock the door to their apartment, “wait until we’re inside. For this.” His hand is uncoordinated and uncooperative and just doesn’t want to listen because, well… it’s actually Goro’s hand.

Long story.

“Might I remind you that you’re the one who brought it up in the first place,” Goro sneers next to him. He somehow manages to sound even more mean in Akira’s voice. “Holy fucking shit,” he says when Akira fumbles the key again, drops it. Goro shoves him away from the door and Akira trips, stumbles because he’s still unaccustomed to Goro’s denser body. “Let me do it.”

And of course Goro unlocks the door almost immediately. Which is almost as irritating as the smug look he’s plastered on top of Akira’s own face as he does it.

“Any ideas for dinner?” Goro asks. He struts past Akira into their apartment, high off his victory with the door of all things, and sheds Akira’s shoes and coat as he goes. Akira does the same, struggling again with Goro’s coat buttons. He does eventually get them though. Akira is nothing if not adaptable.

“Wait,” Akira says after a moment. “Dinner?”

Goro turns back toward him, blinks. “Well, yes.”

“Now?”

“It’s not as if we can do anything to make _this_ ,” he gestures wildly to their predicament: himself stuck in Akira’s body, Akira in Goro’s. “go away. And it’s getting late.”

Even after five years of traversing the Metaverse together, the place still manages to surprise them. It’ll _probably_ wear off soon. Probably. These things usually do, though effects persisting even outside the cognitive world is a rare enough thing that even the two of them don’t have much to go off of here. Still, it’s not like switching bodies is the worst thing to happen to them. Not by a long shot. And before it might have a chance to wear off…

“Well,” Akira says, “I figured. We could…” he trails off, glances toward their bedroom, waggles his eyebrows a bit.

Goro looks following Akira’s gaze. Stares back at him impassively. Akira loves it when he gets snooty. “Seriously.”

“Hey, don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it.”

“I didn’t think you were narcissistic enough to want to fuck yourself.”

“I didn’t think you weren’t,” Akira easily counters. He tries lowering Goro’s voice in the way he knows Goro does when he’s trying to seduce Akira but accidentally turns himself on even more in the process.

He can see the gears turning in Goro’s head now—can see them even when the signs are mapped out across his own face. It helps that Goro still, perhaps unconsciously, does that adorable little Detective Prince “thinking” pose. And he’s been holding the pose for far too long now, which means he’s into the idea and is trying too hard to look like he isn’t.

Which… thank god. Akira hasn’t been able to stop thinking about getting his hands on Goro since this whole thing started. It’s driving him a little crazy, actually. His hands are shaking.

Best not to psycho-analyze that too much.

“Fine,” Goro finally says.

“Alright,” Akira says, lets himself have a little victory fist pump.

“Wait.” Premature fist pump, shit. “We should…” Goro stares at him some more.

Akira’s face is kind of unsettling when he stares, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s… mesmerizing. What is he thinking? Akira watches, transfixed, as Goro steps forward, closer. Goro Akechi is always distracting, whether on purpose or not, but right now there’s just something about him… Akira wouldn’t be able to look away if someone paid him to. Wouldn't want to, anyway. “Let me try it first,” Goro says quietly.

And it is more unsettling now—having his own face so close to him. Like getting too close to a mirror, except Akira has no control over what his mirror self is doing. The good thing is, Akira likes unsettling. He always has. And he also likes how in Goro’s body he’s the one who’s got the height advantage, for once.

Akira meets Goro’s initiative, cups his cheek—tender, careful, the way Goro likes it, ducks down the slightest, most delicious bit and kisses himself.

It’s… different.

It’s good?

Akira licks into Goro’s mouth, hums softly. He can’t quite seem to parse that these are _his_ lips he’s kissing in any meaningful way, but it is different, it’s absolutely clear that Akira is currently kissing a man other than his boyfriend, which makes his heart race in a nonsensical way. Or, Goro’s heart, he supposes.

God.

He’s sweating a little bit—has to stop himself a few times from grabbing Goro more roughly than Akira knows he likes. Every fiber of his body is screaming for him to _take_ , harder, faster, _more_ but he fights against those urges. Stays gentle, soft—that’s how Akira has learned to love his boyfriend.

But, uh. Goro is being awfully enthusiastic about this, isn’t he?

Akira opens his eyes, pulls away, again adjusts to seeing his own face staring back at him rather than Goro’s. “You’re kinda into this.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just,” Akira chuckles, “cool it on the tongue a little.”

“Excuse me?” Goro snarls, grabs a lock of Akira’s hair and pulls— _hard_ , _ow_.

“Ow.”

“I’m using a perfectly normal amount of—you know, you could stand to try a little harder. What were you, asleep? Does making out with me bore you? Does making out with _yourself_ bore you?” Goro growls, just keeps pulling Akira’s hair which— _ow_ , fuck, it just sucks, and—hold on.

Hold on.

Akira always likes having his hair pulled. That’s why Goro does it, that’s how Goro has learned to love him. And he likes Goro’s tongue in his mouth, his possessiveness, his aggression. But right now…

Akira quickly puts a few things together.

Holy shit.

“Goro,” he says, interrupting whatever his boyfriend was rambling on about and reaching back around his head to unhook that iron grip on his hair. “Uh. I’m really sorry in advance for this.”

Akira says a quick prayer to the horniest gods he can think of and then he _slaps_ Goro across the face.

“ _Ah!_ ” Goro yelps. He staggers back, jaw open wide in shock, hand to the cheek Akira hit.

Akira has a moment of panic that he’s done something horrible for absolutely no reason but then Goro gathers his bearings, stares up at Akira like Akira just told him the meaning of life. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” Akira says, though it comes out a little strangled.

“Is that—” he takes a moment to breathe, swallows heavily. “Is that what it feels like for you?”

“Yeah.”

Goro rubs at his cheek some more, looks like he’s having eight different crises in a row. Both his cheeks are flushed now, though one obviously more than the other, and if Akira glances down… yeah. Yeah, that’s working. Okay.

So, they’ve inherited each other’s… _preferences_ as well. Unexpected, but—

“Hit me again,” Goro whimpers.

—Akira likes the unexpected too.

He rears back, slaps Goro once more, and is rewarded with another loud—frankly _wanton_ moan. Goro is loud during sex, always has been, but never with Akira’s voice. And Akira may not want to be slapped or have his hair pulled right now— _might_ actually be experiencing a bit of a power-trip high that _might_ actually be a bit more Goro than him—but he does want more of that voice.

He needs it.

Akira sweeps Goro up in his arms, buries his hands deep into his own familiar, perpetual bedhead and captures his mouth in Goro’s rough, desperate way. Just the way Akira knows Akira’s body likes it. Goro responds in kind, wrapping his arms around Akira and holding him so tight Akira thinks he might have bruises the next morning.

A chill runs down his spine at the contact, and he revels in how close they are. And Akira knows he should be paying attention, knows Goro has caught on and is teaching him exactly how _he_ likes to be kissed, but it’s difficult to concentrate when Goro is here and holding him—warm and solid, his, all his, only his, and Goro _loves_ him—

Akira pulls away, gasps for breath, tries to remember himself. He feels like he’s surfacing from a vast ocean—feels like if he isn’t careful, if he doesn’t tread water he’ll be pulled down completely into Goro’s psyche and never return. He’s not sure if that sounds so bad.

“Is being turned on by this because of me or because of you?” Akira asks.

“Both,” Goro says immediately. “Both of us.”

Akira nods. “Bed.”

It’s strange, tossing his own body onto their bed as rough as he always begs Goro to, seeing him arched and sprawled below him. Akira climbs over his own legs, his hips, brackets his head with Goro’s strong arms and feeling Goro’s hair fall neatly around the sides of his vision. His boyfriend stares up at him with wide grey eyes, red cheeks, and—and god, they’ve gotten pretty damn good at communicating with each other over the years, especially when it comes to this, but it’s another thing entirely to look at Goro and know _exactly_ what his body wants.

Akira gathers Goro’s wrists, pins them above his head, and captures Goro’s mouth like he’s actually trying to devour him.

It’s easy to fall into this role—Akira’s memories and experience telling him what to do, Goro’s body naturally showing him how to do it. They really were made for each other.

Goro keens, squirms in his grasp as Akira travels down, sucks and bites color onto his jaw and his neck and his chest to prove Goro is his. “More—” Goro gasps, in Akira’s voice, _Akira’s voice_. “More, Akira!”

Ah, he may have Akira's voice, Akira’s body, and Akira’s kinks, but that neediness is all Goro Akechi.

Akira moves to fit both of Goro’s wrists snug in one hand, dips the other down to the trousers Akira put on this morning and thanks his past self for picking the ones with the easy button. He’s managed to get Goro’s pants most of the way off before Goro realizes what’s happening.

“What,” he takes a few unsteady breaths, obviously tries to collect himself. Akira’s chest swells with pride. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you,” Akira says, and finishes stripping off Goro’s pants.

“What?” Goro says again, all flushed and cute and dazed.

So, usually their positions are reversed here—Goro commanding, controlling, Akira pliant and willing to do, well—honestly, anything. Goro finds bottoming to be a little more painful than it’s worth, and with Akira’s accidental career as leader of the Phantom Thieves continuing indefinitely… he usually loves handing the reins over for a while. Revels in it.

But right now, his desire to own Goro—to possess him completely, make him his, bury himself inside him so deeply that Goro can never rid himself of Akira—that’s overshadowing anything else.

_(Or is that Goro’s desire? Where does Akira end and Goro begin?)_

“Akira, it’ll hurt,” Goro whines, but makes no moves to stop him. “ _Akira_.”

“It won’t hurt,” Akira says, “you’re me, and you fucked me last night.” Goro moans again, thrusts his hips up against Akira’s at the memory. “And it felt really good—remember?”

“Of course I remember. I remember the neighbors telling us to be quiet,” Goro glances at the wall behind him, squirms a little.

Akira flushes at the memory—cringes a little at how embarrassing it was for them to hear, to be called out like that—but, of course, Akira had never felt that way about it before. “I heard them moving around in there earlier,” Akira murmurs slyly to Goro. “I bet we can really rile them up again.”

Goro releases a slow, shuddering breath.

“You’re loud, you know,” Akira continues. He lightly caresses Goro’s ass, squeezes and spreads him. “Louder than I am. And you know how good you make me feel… don’t you want to show those dickheads next door how good it is too?”

“I can’t. Believe you,” Goro says through gritted teeth, even as his hips rock helplessly again Akira’s. “This is cheating. Fine.”

Akira blinks. “Yeah?” Okay, he didn’t expect convincing him to be that easy.

“Don’t act like you convinced me,” Goro says immediately, “I wanted this anyway. It’s all your fault,” Goro’s eyes snap back to Akira’s in a steady glare. “This entire situation, this ridiculous body—”

“Yes, I’m so sorry,” Akira smiles. Akira is not sorry.

“How do you live like this? What kinks _don’t_ you have? No wonder you’re such a glutton for punishment,” Goro continues on as they strip off the remainder of their clothes in a familiarly awkward dance. “No wonder you’re such a fucking show-off all the time.”

Akira smirks, gives his naked form a blatant once-over. He knows how hot he is. “I’ve got a lot worth showing off,” he says.

“And you’re so shameless about it,” Goro says, falling backward to stretch out shamelessly on the bed underneath Akira. He runs his hands up and down the body he’s borrowing, pulls at his hair a little. Smirks. “I love that about you.”

Heat floods all of Akira’s senses. He feels himself throb at the words, unsuccessfully bites back a whimper.

Oh, holy _shit_ , Goro.

Goro’s smirk widens, because of course he did that on purpose. “I love how hard you work to keep up with me,” he says, and Akira shivers again, even at the fucking backhanded compliment Goro’s giving himself. “I love your mind, your body, even this unmanageable hair of yours. But most of all,” he whispers, “I love how easy you are to manipulate.”

Akira launches into action without another thought—takes hold of Goro’s cock, jerks him hard and fast the way Akira likes and snarls in vindictive delight as Goro thrashes, howls.

“Don’t _stop_ ,” Goro whines after Akira releases him. “You asshole.”

“ _Easy to manipulate~_ ,” Akira mocks. He smacks the side of Goro’s ass, as much as he can reach while Goro is on his back, then reaches past him to grab their lube from his bedside drawer.

“It’s the truth,” Goro says. Akira’s busy slicking up his fingers, warming up the lube between them, and Goro’s eyes warily follow his movements.

“That was _your_ body you were manipulating.”

“Your mind.”

“Your issues.”

“Fuck you.” Akira raises an eyebrow, grabs Goro’s thighs and spreads him open. “W-wait,” Goro says. “Go slow.”

“Mm.” Akira circles Goro’s rim slowly, feels the muscles pulse and flutter beneath his touch. He knows this, too. “You don’t want slow,” he says, and shoves two of his fingers in hard.

“ _Akira!_ ” Goro cries out, “you p-piece of shit— _oh!_ ”

Akira hums an affirmative, easily sliding his fingers in and out, curling up and watching triumphantly as Goro falls apart.

When they do try it this way—when Goro’s feeling overwhelmed, when Akira wants to give him a break and show him how cherished and loved he is—this is the toughest part. Goro would be stiff, tense, impatient to move on when his body, unused to any intrusion, would need more time than Akira’s. It was worth it, it always was, but it was also a far cry from the gorgeous view Akira is privy to now: his boyfriend flushed, tensing and relaxing only in pleasure, thrusting back against Akira to bring him even deeper. 

Honestly, Goro is so fucking lucky he gets to see this whenever he wants.

“Fuck,” Goro mumbles mindlessly as Akira adds a third finger, fucks into him more. “Fuck, Akira, this is, this is such bullshit, I’m—why are you like this—I can’t—”

He’s getting a little impatient too, palming himself with his other hand and learning firsthand what Goro’s cock responds to. The answer is everything—surprise surprise—but nothing more so than the sight of Goro on _his_ bed, at _his_ mercy, _his_.

“You’re ready,” Akira says, impatient, impatient. 

He slides his fingers out. Shivers when Goro actually whines at the loss. Slicks himself up. Imagines what Goro’s seeing right now—his own body looming above him, out of his control, preparing to fuck him.

After years together, they know each other so well—they know what they need, know what the other needs. Akira buries himself inside Goro with one powerful stroke.

Goro squeals, hands reaching up to brace himself before he’s knocked backward into the headboard then grabbing the pillows beside his head, twisting and trembling in the fabric.

Akira doesn’t wait, can’t wait, starts to move.

“ _Oh_ ,” Goro cries out—the first of many, Akira knows. Goro Akechi never could shut up. “Oh god, that’s my cock,” he warbles, staring down at the place they’re connected. “You—you’re fucking welcome.”

“Fuck,” Akira mumbles. He’s trying hard not to be overwhelmed by the tight heat enveloping his cock, the pitiful sounds Goro is singing out with Akira’s voice, but most of all he can’t stop staring at himself.

If Akira were barely treading water before, he’s lost past pulled beneath the waves by now.

“You like your own cock inside you? Like how it stretches you out?”

“Yes—” Goro gasps.

“This is what you do to me, Goro,” Akira growls possessively. “Do you want more?” 

“ _Yes—_ ”

“Louder.”

“Yes!” Goro cries out, arches his back and slams a trembling fist into his pillow. “Yes! I want it, you piece of shit! I want more!”

Akira grabs Goro by the hips, wrenches him down the bed towards him, feels a little flutter in his stomach at the strength of the body he’s occupying.

And then he slaps his boyfriend across the face again.

Goro gasps a high, reedy whine that Akira answers as the walls around him tighten in pleasure. “Harder,” Goro yells, “harder, hit me again!”

Akira does.

Goro’s answering shout finally spurs their neighbors to pound on their shared wall, a muffled _shut up_ barely audible past wall, the bed creaking, their heavy breath and—

“ _Fuck you!_ ” Goro shouts back. Akira claps hand over his mouth, presses as deep inside him as he can go and holds himself there.

“If you’re not careful they'll figure out what a whore you are, if they haven’t already,” Akira says, words ripped straight from his own fantasies and jack-off material. Goro’s eyes widen. “But you want them to know how good I’m fucking you, don’t you? Maybe you want them to come over and have a turn, show them exactly how loud and pretty you can be for them?”

These are Akira’s fantasies, but saying them out loud, imagining it now makes him _furious_. “But they can’t. I would kill them if they tried to touch you. You’re mine, mine, only mine, Goro—”

He removes his hand from Goro’s mouth, tugs at his hair instead. Feels delicious pain burst across his scalp in response, whether from memory or… something else. Akira braces his other hand on their headboard and moves again, moves with Goro, jackhammers into his boyfriend as hard and fast as he can, prays it’s enough to bruise him.

Goro keens louder, louder—a mindless array of swears and sounds and Akira pretty sure Goro is calling out his own name in addition to Akira’s—but maybe, maybemaybemaybe that is his name. He has Goro’s body, his feelings, his desires and insecurities. Maybe he _is_ Goro.

Goro? reaches up, pulls Akira? down, kisses him sloppily, pants and whines into his mouth as he gets closer to his peak. And for a moment he understands Goro Akechi completely, loves him whole… because he is Goro Akechi.

…

Akira gasps, sucks breath into his lungs. He shudders as aftershocks still crash into him, like waves breaking on a shore.

When he can, he blinks his eyes open. Stares up at Goro.

“When did we switch back?” he rasps out, throat already sore from overuse.

“I don’t know,” Goro responds. He leans forward, rests his forehead against Akira’s.

Breathes.

“You’re incredible,” Akira says, still overwhelmed by the everything of what he’d felt—Goro’s passion, his love, wild and possessive and desperate and so, _so_ him. “I knew but I…"

“Sap,” Goro sighs, because of course he does. He rolls his eyes and smiles down at Akira, pecks him on the lips one last time. “I love you. All of you. Now… would you _please_ make me some fucking dinner?”


End file.
